


Show Me What You Got

by lostinparallel



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Blow Jobs, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 14:23:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4838498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinparallel/pseuds/lostinparallel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael slams the locker door shut. The crash of metal rings through the air and the Gryffindor team turns their heads to the source of noise.</p><p>It isn’t unusual for Michael to be angry after a bad match.<br/>He’d often storm from the pitch after a loss, shoulders tense and eyes dark with fury. Gavin would do anything to wipe the disappointed anger off his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Me What You Got

**Author's Note:**

> this oneshot is inspired by my roosterteeth hogwarts au, which i'm currently writing.  
> boy, i sure hope none of my irl friends ever see this...
> 
> (title is a lyric from [destroya](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6GpIEUPJof4) by my chemical romance)

Michael slams the locker door shut. The crash of metal rings through the air and the Gryffindor team turns their heads to the source of noise.

It isn’t unusual for Michael to be angry after a bad match. Gavin’s always thought that Michael cared too much – that quidditch was always more than just a game to him. He’d often storm from the pitch after a loss, shoulders tense and eyes dark with fury. Gavin would do anything to wipe the disappointed anger off his face.

He slumps down on a bench, furiously unfastening his arm guards. The rest of the Gryffindor team continue as though nothing has happened, stripping out of their quidditch uniforms and filing out of the changing room as time drifts by.

Lindsay offers Michael a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as she leaves, ignoring how he flinches away from her touch. Soon, it’s only Gavin and Michael left in the room.

Michael yanks his quidditch jersey over his head and tosses it onto the floor. He then starts peeling off his undershirt, grimacing as he pulls the damp material. Gavin catches sight of an angry bruise, painting the side of Michael’s abdomen a deep purple. Hissing, Michael releases his shirt. He tries a different approach, instead, lifting his arms over his head to tug the shirt off from the back, but stretching feels even worse and he bites back a groan.

Gavin ambles over to him before he can do any more damage. He sinks to his knees and reaches for Michael’s undershirt, but his hand is batted away. Gavin reaches for it again and Michael slaps his wrist.

“Cut it out.”

Gavin rolls his eyes, “Let me do it. You’re just gonna hurt yourself.”

“…Fine,” Michael grumbles.

When Gavin reaches for Michael’s shirt the third time, there’s no resistance. He carefully lifts the material from Michael’s stomach, knuckles ghosting across soft freckled skin as he pulls the shirt up to Michael’s chest.

“You know, you could actually help,” Gavin says derisively.

Michael sighs, reluctantly raising his arms so that Gavin can drag the shirt over his head. But the collar gets caught on his chin and Michael’s left sitting there with a black stretch of fabric wrapped around his face.

“Michael, stop _wriggling._ ”

“Shut up.”

Gavin can barely hold back his laughter, “It’s stuck on your head.”

“Well pull gently, assho— _ow,_ that was my nose!”

Eventually, Gavin manages to wrench the damn thing off him and the two of them come away mostly unscathed.

Michael shakes his head, auburn curls bouncing at the movement. “That was way harder than it should’ve been.”

“Not my fault you can’t sit still,” Gavin comments.

Michael laughs, a weird half-chuckle, half-snort. It’s the first time he’s smiled since the match ended.

So Gavin takes a risk, “It’s not your fault we lost the match either.”

Michael’s smile drops. “I’m pretty sure taking a bludger to the side and falling off my broom counts as fucking up.”

“It was a nasty bludger,” Gavin insists, “I wouldn’t’ve been able to dodge it.”

Michael scoffs. “That’s not saying much, seeing as you have the balance of a new-born deer.”

“A fawn.”

“…What?”

“It’s what you call a baby deer.”

“Shut up, moron.”

“Why don’t you _make_ me?”

Michael blinks, dumbfounded. Gavin panics, worrying that he’s overstepped his boundaries, when an amused grin lifts the corners of Michael’s mouth.

“Really? _Why don’t you make me?_ Comeback of the century, Gavin. If I was seven years old I might actually be offended.”

“Oi! Just ’cause you can’t think of anything better than ‘shut up’.”

“Well it worked, didn’t it?” Michael grins, “You lost the argument.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Resorting to childish comebacks counts as losing, Gavin.”

“Since _when?_ ”

“Since forever, dumbass.”

“Well I’m still _right_. We still would’ve lost the match even if you _hadn’t_ fallen off your broom because Adam Ellis is a goddamn _menace._ Now bloody accept it and move—”

Gavin was talking so fast he didn’t even realise how close Michael had gotten. He only clocks on when the other boy’s lips suddenly press against his mouth. Michael pulls away before Gavin can even contemplate what happened. The feeling of contact fades so quickly that he doesn’t believe it actually _did._

“W-what are you doing?” He stammers.

Michael shrugs, like it’s the most normal thing in the world to randomly snog your best friend. “Shutting you up.”

A moment of silence flickers between them, brief and burning like a glimmer of candlelight. Next thing Gavin knows, he’s shoving Michael against a wall.

Their lips crash together, mouths searching for each other hungrily. And Gavin knows, deep in his bones, that nothing will ever make him feel this whole. Michael licks into his mouth, desperate with want, and Gavin runs his tongue along Michael’s bottom lip, pressing their chests flush together. Gently, he drags his teeth over the soft flesh of Michael’s lip and Michael keens into his mouth.

A low growl claws up Gavin’s throat. His chest feels as though it will burst, and he tugs Michael back onto the bench, peppering his jaw with feather-light kisses.

Gavin pulls away. When Michael tries to chase him with his mouth, Gavin pushes him firmly against the wall. Sinking to his knees once again, he settles between Michael’s thighs.

Slowly, he pulls Michael’s trousers down, tugging them past his knees. Michael is already hard, and Gavin can see the outline of his cock through his tight boxers. He bends low and sucks bruising kisses into Michael’s thigh, tugging at the sensitive skin with his teeth. Michael inhales sharply.

Gavin looks up at him through his lashes but the other boy’s eyes are shut tight. Michael lets out a moan, his head thudding against the wall.

Gavin strokes Michael through his boxers, continuing to bite hickeys into his thighs. Excitement jolts through him at the sound of Michael’s high-pitched whines. He shivers under Gavin’s touch, releasing quiet breathless whimpers.

Michael gasps when Gavin removes his boxers. Urging him to open his legs wider, Gavin closes the small distance between them. He wraps slender fingers around the base of Michael’s cock, and pumps his hand gently. Michael’s hips buck at the contact.

“S-shit, Gavin,” He breathes, “Someone could— _fuck_ —see us…”

“Good,” Gavin says coolly, and Michael shudders beneath him.

Gavin brushes his lips against Michael’s head, tonguing lightly at the slit. Michael hisses and Gavin swallows him down, stroking his shaft and bobbing up and down in a steady rhythm. Reaching round Michael’s waist, he digs his fingernails into the soft skin of Michael’s ass.

“ _Fuck!_ G-god, Gavin. Do it again.”

Gavin kneads Michael’s ass, dragging his nails down the curve of his back. Michael cries out. His body is flushed red and curls stick to his forehead with sweat, lips forming an ‘o’ as Gavin glides his tongue along Michael’s hard length.

Gavin hollows his cheeks. He grips Michael’s hips and swallows him down completely, feeling the other boy’s cock hot and heavy on his tongue. Michael’s hands tangle in Gavin’s hair pulling so sharply it almost hurts. Waves of pleasure shoot through Gavin’s body.

“Aaahhhh—fuck—Gavin! Shit, I’m—” and Michael’s coming into Gavin's mouth, ribbons of white spilling down his throat. Taken aback, Gavin sputters. He jerks back, coughing and spitting onto the floor.

Michael laughs, his chest heaving. “Dude, don’t die on me. It’d really kill the mood.”

“I just sucked your cock and you’re calling me _dude?_ ” Gavin gibes.

“Sorry, baby.” Michael laughs again, a stupidly endearing giggle, and kisses the corner of Gavin’s mouth. He glances down at the tent Gavin is pitching in his quidditch trousers. “Guess we should take care of that… If you want?”

“You won’t hear me complaining,” Gavin says eagerly, and the two of them strip out of the rest of their clothes.

**

Steam rises around them, clouding mirrors and dripping condensation down frosted glass windows.

Michael’s hands are gentle on Gavin’s body; touching, stroking caressing. Fingers trail along smooth expanses of skin as they kiss, wet and open-mouthed.

A constant stream of water patters against the tiled floor. They curl around each other under the shower head, hands splayed across chests and lips massaging tenderly. Gavin pulls away, their lips parting with a smack. His eyes flutter open and he’s shocked by how close Michael is – the droplets trickling down his freckled skin, clinging to his lashes and pooling in the dips of his collarbones. He can feel Michael’s breath dancing across his cheek.

“I didn’t think you liked me.” He admits, his voice a hushed whisper.

Michael presses their foreheads together, cupping Gavin’s jaw with delicate fingers. “I’ve always liked you, idiot.” His smile is fond, affection shimmering in his warm, brown eyes, and Gavin’s heart skips a beat.

“…Calling me an idiot while you confess your feelings kind of defeats the point, you know.”

“ _God,_ shut up.You’re ruining the moment.”

Gavin sends Michael the biggest shit-eating grin he can muster. “I like you too, idiot.”

Michael kisses him again.


End file.
